Page 156 of Black Castle

For a minute or more, she rests her head against the stone, her eyes close as she tries to catch her breath. Then suddenly, she senses it, a shadow hovering over her, a barely audible crunch of boot against sodden soil, and a finger brushing against her wrist.

A scream tears out of her throat as the cold fingers tighten around her wrist, yanking her to her feet.

“Please, please, please.” Eyes still sealed shut, she refuses to see the dead holding onto her, pressing her against a wet and cold body, clasping a hand over her mouth to silence her.

Then she feels it, cold lips brushing against the lobe of her ear. “Now that was a good run, wasn’t it?”

The voice is distorted over the heavy downpour, though eerily familiar, sending shivers of fear down her spine.

“Open your eyes,” it urges, cold fingers brushing against her chin as he forces her eyes to meet his. “Look at me.”

She shakes her head, her body trembling, her heart hammering against her chest.

“I said open your eyes,” he growls, his fingers digging into her chin. She whimpers, slowly snapping her eyes open.

A loud gasp tears through her lips, a gentle stagger backward but he yanks her back until her body is pressing impossibly against the lean muscles under his soft cotton shirt. The mask is still on his face and closer, it looks more grotesque. Her heart pounds, blood rushing in her ears.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” he whispers, head tilting as if listening more closely. “I can taste your fear.”

Rain trickles down her temples, cold as ice, mixing with the sweat beading at her nape. Her lashes are heavy, soaked, but she forces her eyes to stay open, refusing to blink.

“Ladybird.”

A breath shudders out of her at the name, the ridiculous, endearing thing he has always called her. She never cared much for it before, never stopped to wonder why he chose it. But right now, it’s her lifeline—proof that he’s here with her, not some unresting spirit, a crazed phantom conjured by the storm and the graves surrounding her.

“Tonight, I’ll eat all your fears, all your tears, and the horror in those pretty eyes.”

His knuckles brush her cheek, ice-cold, sending a tremor through her. The other hand trails lower, over soaked fabric and trembling flesh, until it cups her ass.

“Tell me, ladybird.”

A whimper escapes her lips as his thumb presses inside her mouth, silencing her. She gasps softly around the digit, her body caught between the remnants of fear and the slow, creeping heat curling at her core.

“Have you ever been fucked by a ghost?”

She shakes her head, the motion weak, dazed. The mixture of adrenaline and desire turns electric inside her, sizzling beneath her skin as rain beats down in relentless torrents.

A gasp tears from her throat when he flips her, forcing her down onto her knees over the nameless, barely standing gravestone. The stone digs into her palms as she catches herself, wet soil yielding beneath her fingers.

A tug, firm but measured, guides her forward, her hands sinking into the sodden earth while her hips are raised.

The air shifts behind her, thick with heat and something more dangerous.

She barely breathes as he kneels, his fingers catching the hem of her skirt, rolling it up her waist in one slow, deliberate motion. A gust of cold air kisses her exposed skin before her soaked panties are yanked down, the elastic biting her thighs.

“Try not to make a sound.” His body presses flush against hers, his lips at her ear, his voice a ghostly rasp. “They like it quiet around here.”

A fist tangles in her hair, jerking her head back as a sharp whimper catches in her throat. The night feels alive around them, the trees whispering, the rain murmuring, the graves holding their breath.

Then she feels it.

His cock glides over her, teasing, brushing against her swollen clit before dragging lower.

A violent shiver wracks through her arms as he pushes inside, stretching her in one hard thrust, knocking a moan loose from her lips.

“Oh, god.”

Her fingers claw at the dirt as he pulls out and slams back into her, each thrust harder, deeper, more punishing. The storm inside her builds; an intoxicating mixture of fear, arousal, and the forbidden.

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